


Sweet Niflheim

by LumaBoop



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enchanted items, F/M, From Sex to Love, Garters, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Magical Realism, Oral Sex, Possession, Rimming, This is what happens when you let Noctis buy gifts, all you need is a lil push~, antique shop au, pairings to come in the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-10-29 09:13:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10850919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LumaBoop/pseuds/LumaBoop
Summary: There's an antique shop. It's got some weird shit in it. The shop keeper's even more weird. And kinda attractive? A lot of mixed signals. Watch what you buy--- there are no refunds.But, really, the shop keeper's never had an unsatisfied customer.





	1. The Apron of the Spinless

Noctis really should have asked Iris to come with him. Or at least Prompto. They had a better grasp on this than he did, but he'd known Ignis since childhood. Surely he could get Ignis a graduation gift. But gifting was so damn hard. Especially for a man who never seemed to want anything beyond his favorite coffee, his quiet time, and to cook whenever the opportunity arose.

 

Noctis would gift him Gladiolus, but the man already had him, too, even if he didn't know it.

 

He _would_ get him a gift, damnit. Even through his graduate and post graduate program, Ignis still found time for him and his family, even if he'd long moved on as Noctis' official caretaker. Soon he'd work for Citadel, Inc. as one of his father's closest financial and Big Data analyst.

 

In other words, the man worked hard, and took care of everyone, but himself. Yet he asked for no party and no gifts for his graduation. Noctis, and a few others, was giving that line of thought a grand 'fuck that'. Everyone was planning to get Ignis something, and Noctis should have had the forethought to drag one of them with him on his endeavor.

 

But he wanted to pick on his own. He wanted a gift that was all his own idea that didn't default to someone's influence and suggestions like he was prone to allowing. Especially where his friends were concerned.

 

" _Try antique stuff. Iggy loves that._ " Gladio had suggested, and so here he was outside of some place called Niflheim. Nose wrinkling in thought if he could pronounce that correctly verbally, Noctis slipped into the shop. He immediately frowned at how uncomfortable it made him that the place was stuffed with items that looked so fragile, breathing would turn them to dust. He found himself forcing to breathe and tightening up his body so as not to accidentally touch anything.

 

And, to add to his anxiety of picking something, there was no shop keeper around to assist him. There was no one about in greeting. Well, good thing he was an upstanding citizen nor had interest in old shit.

 

Noctis continued deeper into the shop, finding it to be bigger on the inside than it looked outside. Deeper in also allowed for less clutter, antiques placed tactfully on display to tease customers with their uniqueness instead of cramped tight.

 

Perhaps a book? A recipe book that had rare specialty ideas that not even the internet knew about? Or…maybe a new chair? Nah, Ignis wouldn't give up his leather armchair for something less kind to his back.

 

An old whisk? Noctis snorted, lips curled mischievously at the thought of handing Ignis the tarnished kitchen item. He would probably not even use it; he'd hang it somewhere in his kitchen as decoration. But that wouldn't do-- that was too easy. It would be nice to get Ignis something antique that he would also use, not just put somewhere for aesthetics sake.

 

A piece of clothing then? A bit of vintage for Ignis to wear. Some old cuff links? Antique glasses? An old tie? Noctis sucked his teeth and clenched his eyes shut. Fuck, _no_ , anything but a tie. The absolute worst, most clique gift.

 

"Ugh, why was this so hard…?"

 

"A rather fetching garment, if I may so myself."

 

The voice next to his head was so sudden, and caused such a violently pleasant reaction to awash his ears and core and toes, that Noctis simply froze, stunned stupid from the smooth, rumbling voice that licked at his senses.

 

"Oh dear," spoke the voice again, with Noctis only catching dark colored hair in his peripheral vision, body still paralyzed with tingles. But even in his current state, he could pick up the false concern. "I have startled you. My deepest apologies."

 

"N-no it's… fine." Noctis swallowed, feeling air shoot back into his lungs from his nose, sharp and bracing, giving him coherence again. He blinked rapidly and cleared his throat to try and suppress his mild embarrassment of being so stupefied by the man's appearance. Not to mention how he managed to be snuck up on so easily. Perhaps he was really thinking too hard about this. He resisted the urge to look over his shoulder, so as to further hide his recovering sheepishness.

 

"I merely noticed you dwelling in front of this apron, and thought to indulge your opinion of it."

 

Oh. Was he? He hadn't noticed, but in lifting his head, Noctis spotted the apron styled upon a wire mannequin. It was okay, he guessed, not really having an eye for such things. It has a nice calming color of dark purple, almost too sharp to be antique. Then, Noctis noticed the old touch on the pocket, where a kinda cute embroidery of a Tonberry sharpening a knife was placed. Noctis could appreciate the artistry in that detail, especially if the apron was made back when it would have been hand done.

 

"Hnm…" Noctis felt himself smile, hand reaching out to almost run his finger over the raised fabric. "It is… nice."

 

"Indeed. It belonged to a man who lacked confidence, so he sewed in the little creature onto his apron, and his confidence in the culinary arts swelled. Or so I was told when I acquired it."

 

Acquired? So this man was the absent shop keeper? The voice was further away now, but he hadn't heard footsteps back away from him. Either the man was walking around his shop barefoot, was highly self conscious of his steps, or … something. Noctis mentally wrinkled his nose at this weirdness. He still did not turn around to acknowledge him, too taken with this potentially perfect gift.

 

Apron. Nice looking and tailored. Dark color, so stains wouldn't be a problem when he wore it. Ignis would like the Tonberry. And it was old. It checked all the boxes.

 

The price tag, however, was not in his favor. Sure, he was the son of a billionaire, but he had been cut off from that cash pool a long time ago with his own say so, wishing to be independent of his father since college. So, he had his own budget to stick to (another thing to be thankful to Ignis for in helping him create said budget). That budget did not allow for something like this.

 

"Tch… guess it’s not happening."

 

"I'll cut the price down by half," said the shop keep, who's voice was now halfway across the store. He almost didn't hear him, but they were the only one's there and his voice carried. Noctis shivered; that voice wasn't fair. And neither was that offer.

 

Even at half off, the apron still would take a large chunk out of his spending limit for the month. Perhaps even two months. Noctis stood up straight and crossed his arms, thinking. He started to bounce his leg in impatience.

 

"Hnm, 75% then." The voice was closer again, deeper, rolling off the tongue like a hand carding through Noctis' hair to coax him to buy this stupidly priced apron. But, it was now at a price he could afford. He would still be eating home cooked meals for the next four weeks, but he could do it now.

 

"Yeah, sure. I can do that."

 

"Ah, sold then." The voice sounded absolutely delighted and smug. "Oh, but you must pack up the apron yourself at that price. You gave up the privilege of gift box wrapping at 50% off."

 

A box dropped beside Noctis along with tissue paper and he had half a mind to quip that he wouldn't mind paying extra for _some_ kind of customer service. Still, he couldn't beat this price, and it was a great gift for Ignis. As he gingerly removed the apron from the mannequin, he grinned in triumph. He'd done it. He actually got a decent gift for someone on his own.

 

Prompto would never believe him.

 

With the apron safely placed in its box, Noctis carried it to the counter, finally getting a full view of this odd-as-hell shop keeper. A shop keeper who was inattentive to his shop, did not respect personal space, and traded customer service for discounts.

 

The hair he'd spotted before was not a trick of the light, but the man's chosen shade, dark purple, almost pinkish in some places. Maybe red. Noctis wasn't really looking at his hair that much to tell, as his eyes had caught him like a snare around his neck, keeping him poised and making his back stiff. It was similar to his voice, pinning him down like nails driven into his boots. The unfairness of it all was that this state of paralysis was not wholly unwanted, as it came coupled with a smooth stroke into his core, like someone pressing into the middle of his pecs down over his stomach and right over his pelvis.

 

This fucking guy… Noctis needed to _leave_. Just needed to do this transaction and leave from this guy's strange presence so he could regain control of his damn body. This guy wasn't even his type. Too much older. And too much ego-- he could sense it wafting off him through his posture and lazy smile.

 

"I see that will be all for you, good man?"

 

"Y... Yeah that's it. Can't really afford anything else." Noctis huffed out the last, his eyes finally snapping down and to the side. The man started writing out a… paper receipt. The hell, how old was this guy? And he didn't have cash on him to make that valid.

 

"Ah, I don't have cash…"

 

"Then it is a good thing I was not planning on taking cash," chuckled the shop keep, dark brown eyes gleaming through lashes lowered with smug playfulness, "This slip is for your credit card information. My poor machine is down, and I will have to make the transaction in an alternative fashion. I assure you--- it will be destroyed shortly after I use it."

 

"Nh… oookay." He slid his card to the man, who took it closer to him, then, pulled a pair of wired glasses from a front pocket. If possible, his pinning gaze was intensified, but thankfully, no longer poised on Noctis.

 

He started bouncing his leg again, waiting for the shop keep to finish. And trying not to allow his eyes to drift back to him. He couldn't take another… whatever that was that made him stiff and warm all over whenever this guy spoke or looked at him.

 

"And, there we are." The man tucked the slip into a drawer behind the counter and proceeded to lean on one elbow and give him a not so innocent smile while returning his card.

 

"I do hope you enjoy your purchase."

 

"Ah, can I have a receipt or something? Or that something else that you don't do?" Noctis sighed, growing exhausted by this whole experience. Or just this shop keep.

 

"I do not do refunds, so a receipt is hardly necessary. Unless you care for a proof of purchase."

 

No… refunds? Really?  So he couldn't return this damn apron if it was something Ignis didn't like or if it was something someone else had thought of to get him? Shit… this fucking…

 

"Fine, whatever." Noctis half growled while grabbing the box with the apron. "Thanks."

 

"Take care, Noctis."

 

The young man flinched and snapped his head over his shoulder. The hell had he…?

 

As if sensing his confusion, the shop keep chuckled and waved a hand. "Your card? It had your name on it?"

 

"…" Yeah, yeah it did. Yup, time to leave. He gave a curt nod and proceeded out of the strange-as-fuck antique shop and its weird-as-fuck owner.

 

"Niflheim... huh?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because real life is often stranger than fiction.
> 
> Also because if you were a man of 2000 years, you may have harbored a mass of magical items yourself. Why not sell them? Thank you Noctoleptic for the beta'ing!


	2. Ignis the Bold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Apron works its magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update to this precious project, and it's so rather juicy, had to add some tags and change the rating. Whoopsy Daisy~

He was rather surprised by the tact of Noctic's gift to him. His closest friend was usually horrible in picking out gifts, especially those he genuinely cared for. The apron was a gorgeous token, both being in his favorite color, and having a cartoon of one of his favorite mythical creatures on it. Needless to say, he did truly adore it.

 

But, he had yet to wear it.

 

Aprons were prone to getting dirty, as was the point of a good apron, and Ignis simply did not wish to get a speck of anything on the beautiful garment. However, when Noctis came by to taste a crumb pie he'd been working on, he noticed that the apron was hanging on a wall in the kitchen and made his displeasure known.

 

_C'mon Ignis. I bought that so you can use it, damnit. Not as an ornament. Please wear it?_

 

Berated, and pleaded with in the same breath was enough for Ignis to cave. He'd invited Gladio over for dinner and a horror movie that neither Prompto, Noctis, or Iris would be interested in (or could stomach, more specifically). While Gladio prepped drinks for them, and settled in the living room to let Ignis cook, the man donned his lovely apron.

 

The moment that he wrapped the last of the two knots behind him, he felt incredibly warm. Solid. Comfortable, like wearing a heavy coat in winter. The heavy draped sensation only lasted a few seconds, which was followed by the exact opposite-- Ignis felt airy. Released. Daring. This sensation seeped from his body into his mind, and he immediately thought of an alteration to the rump roast he was preparing.

 

Some extra sage for a more savory flavor.

 

He credited the happiness of wearing his apron to his sudden burst of inspiration and energy, unaware of the pretty shine that briefly occurred in the cotton tonberry's button eye.

 

The longer he wore the apron, the more efficient Ignis found himself working, and the more ideas popped into his head. And the longer it was taking him to cook.

 

"Ignis, you alright in he--- whoa, what are ya doing in here?"

 

Ignis had several appliances running at once, while also creating a puree and a syrup and a mash, it seemed. The man looked up from where he was taste testing something, and curled his fingers at Gladio instead of answering his question.

 

"Gladio, taste this for me?" He offered a wooden spoon that was covered in something reddish brown. Gladio leaned down, lips tentatively wrapping about the utensil. The moment his lips touched the sauce, his teeth clamped around the spoon and he sucked the rest off with gusto.

 

"Iggy, the hell was that?! It's fucking delicious."

 

"A raspberry chocolate glaze I thought of using to drizzle over cheesecake. I'm currently entertaining the idea of making one, but I believe I lack the ingredients."

 

"Hnm, well, it's really great. Like sex on a spoon." Gladio grinned, as he was prone to making such jokes around Ignis.

 

Ignis fully turned to Gladio, and there was a sheen to his eyes. Almost… _lustful_ in its intensity. It made Gladio's core warm, because despite his best efforts and tact over many years, he had resigned himself to having Ignis as a close friend, but not as a lover, because the man simply never picked up his hints.

 

This time, it looked as if something clicked.

 

"The roast is currently in the oven, so I've been trying out some other things in the meantime," Ignis began, as if he were about to list off all the things currently cooking. Nothing sexy about that, Gladio mused, and started to write off ever seeing that look in Ignis' eyes. Maybe he imagined it because of how toe curling good that glaze was.

 

Ignis stopped, however, and one could see the metaphorical gears turning in his head. As if he had a better idea. He gently took back the spoon Gladio still held and dropped it nonchalantly into the water filled sink, eyes focused on him.

 

"How much did you enjoy that glaze, Gladiolus?" Ignis drawled, one hand dragging fingers along the edge of the counter as he back stepped deeper into the kitchen. The look in his eyes was a come hither call, a metaphorical curl of the fingers for Gladio to approach.

 

Gladio swallowed and moved forward, step by matching step, suddenly feeling as if the air was too thick, too warm. "It was pretty fantastic," he rumbled, subconsciously wetting his lips.

 

"I have another glaze here. White chocolate with melted peppermint." Ignis moved to another counter where a jar of white cream sat. He curled his hand around the jar, then reached for a spoon, giving the glaze a stir, all while his eyes stayed locked on Gladio.

 

"Spoons are used for taste testing. However… at times, you need to taste how something is against flesh. For finger foods, you see." Ignis explained, his words conversational, but his tone downright seedy. Gladio found himself crowding him, one palm flat beside Ignis on the counter. Yet, he did not feel as if he were trapping Ignis--- he felt trapped by this magnetism suddenly humming, buzzing, between them.

 

"Hnm, so we gonna taste this now…?"

 

" _You_ are," Ignis chimed, the ends of his lips curled dangerously so.

 

The spoon was used to scoop a generous amount of glaze out of the jar. Then, slowly and carefully, Ignis drizzled the glaze from the spoon across his fingers, taking care to not get one drop upon the floor. He raised the spoon to his own lips afterwards, humming as the crispy sugary sweetness dissolved upon his tongue and down his throat with every visible suck, cheek hollowing with the subtle effort.

 

"Iggy, fuck…" Gladio rasped, lips parting in a sudden hunger, mouth salivating at the glaze covered fingers, and Ignis' chocolate-touched lips. Ignis merely smiled, all false innocence and daring.

 

"Yes?" He wiggled his chocolate covered hand expectantly, raising it to Gladio's lips.

 

With a shuddered exhale, Gladio raised a hand and grasped Ignis' wrist, more so to steady himself, before whispering. "The hell's gotten into you?"

 

The other tilted his head and whispered right back, as if just as astonished and excited as he was. As if he were just as relieved as Gladio was, because, fucking finally, this is happening. And all it took was a push. Some bloody initiative. " _Inspiration_ , Gladiolus…"

 

As if that spoke of everything, solidified every strained moment between the two of them up to this point, Gladio shuddered, his shoulders, his whole body, relaxing as if unlocked from shackles of restraint. Unleashed. He relaxed right against Ignis, torsos pressed together, both hands pawing at the counter at either side of Ignis' body, while his eyes fluttered closed and he sucked down two white chocolate colored fingers until Ignis could pet and stroke the man's tonsils and tongue. Not a gag reflex to be found.

 

"Seems your hunger can not wait until the roast is ready. What shall we do about that?" Ignis purred, his free hand curling around the other man's body to gather the tank up until he could pet and tease at the lower back where inked feathers lay and the beginning swell of Gladio's ass rested.

 

The man moaned around his fingers, a dusting of red rising across his dark cheeks while his body curled under Ignis' words and his tongue. His lower back bowed ever so to get more of that heated touch, while his hips jerked forward along Ignis' body, feeling the outline of their cocks even through denim jeans and apron fabric. He kept suckling, tongue passing between the two of digits to signal his desired substitute to food.

 

Ignis chuckled, eyes darkening by the second as he watched Gladio unravel. His hand went lower, dipping just so past the belt line, fingernails dragging along more of the curve of his ass cheeks. "Something else, then, to hold you off? A bit of finger food, perhaps. A savory appetizer for your greedy mouth?"

 

Gladio's brows knit and his thighs flexed, air shooting out of his flaring nose. Yes, he wanted that. Craved it. Wanted that offered extra, especially if it was what he believe it was. Emphasizing, he sucked Ignis' fingers even deeper, the tips tickling his throat, where something else should be. His eyes parted, blacken eyes outlined in amber, and Ignis rumbled in appreciation.

 

"I know just the thing for you, Gladiolus…"

 

The tonberry's button eye twinkled.

 

* * *

 

After a brief moment of maneuvering, turning appliances down or off, and keeping one Gladio from completely devouring him in the process, Ignis had his new muse between his thighs while propped up on the counter, unconcerned with his ass resting into the marble. He held the hem of his apron between teeth and lips, keeping it out of Gladio's way as the man mouthed and kissed his skin as if he'd been dying to for ages. Stumble touched cheeks scratched delightfully upon his twitching thighs as he nibbled and teased where shirt garters clung to his legs, now loosened to allow the tails of Ignis' shirt to reveal his crotch.

 

Ignis mewled into the apron fabric as Gladio took the elastic garter between his teeth and pulled, only to release and let it snap back into his supple skin, followed by his tongue washing over the reddened flesh. His head lulled upon his shoulder as he leaned back on his arms to brace for more teasing when Gladio did that over and over, snapping the garters over blushing skin to watch it like cooking meat.

 

Gladio moved on, nuzzling underneath the apron and the shirttails. He gave attention around the hardened outline of Ignis' cock trapped by boxer briefs. His hands gripped the back of Ignis' thighs, parting them open as he mouthed and sucked at what lay underneath, groaning happily at the smell and the heat of him and the sweet muffled moans Ignis released.

 

Suddenly, Gladio's world went dark when Ignis released the apron hem from his oral grip, no longer able to hold back his verbal keens. "G-Gladio! Gladio please, I can't--"

 

Hidden underneath the apron as if he were under a duvet, Gladio smirked at the sudden rush of secrecy he felt in being hidden from Ignis' gaze. Able to do as he wished without the critical, albeit lust hazed, eye of his lover. He continued his assault through the underwear, sloppy lips mouthing at his cock while matching it with squeezes to Ignis' thighs and underneath his knees where he still had him firmly gripped.

 

When Ignis' hips started to jerk, Gladio granted mercy and, gently, took the front of the briefs between his teeth. He tugged, peeling off spit- and precum-soaked fabric from his body, and growled happily when Ignis curled his stomach and rose his ass from the counter to help in its removal. Gladio sunk further down to his knees, pulling the briefs completely off one leg, only to let them hang obscenely from an ankle.

 

Gladio chuckled and stayed in a squat, slinking back underneath the apron and settling Ignis' thighs upon his shoulders. He hummed as those thighs squeezed his head in excitement, and could only imagine Ignis' flushed face while he continued to hear soft, whimpering pleas and nasty declarations. Fuck, had he only known earlier Ignis had such a mouth on him.

 

"Gladio, gods… so hungry for me… please, devour me. Drink me down… want to feed you…"

 

Then again, he was just as bad, and just as starved for the cock before him. No longer wasting time, having teased Ignis within an inch of his stamina, he was sure, Gladio slid further, giving one final lick and suckle to his sac and his base before slurping his cock past his lips much like he'd done those chocolate covered fingers.

 

Gladio heard the clatter of something to his left, and through the apron and the light of the kitchen, he could barely make out that it had been Ignis' glasses falling off his face and onto the counter. The man had jerked so hard in pleasure from his lips finally surrounding him he'd lost functionality. Gladio tasted it too; a fresh shot of precum peppered his throat and he groaned his pleasure at the taste.

 

Hands stroked Ignis' outer thighs as he went to task, tongue and cheeks and vibrating chest working together to drag Ignis down into sweet oblivion.

 

"G-Gladio… f-fuck Gladio, harder. Please, harder! N-nm, you feel so exquisite around me, I want more…"

 

He hollowed his cheeks and moved his head just that bit faster, allowing Ignis' head to dangle in his throat. Spit and precum coated Gladio's lips and caught in the downy hairs of the cock base, and Gladio felt the need to gather it all back. He pulled up, kissed Ignis' pink cock head, and licked hungrily at his base again, lavishing his crotch with more attention than Ignis expected. He felt the man's thighs quiver all over again at his thoroughness, and his coupling words made Gladio's cheeks burn with it.

 

"Such good manners… gods yes, lick your plate clean… take all of me, Gladiolus…"

 

Fuck, his whole name. He loved that, he wanted to hear it again. So he went back to the main appetizer, engulfing Ignis back down his throat and along his working tongue. He was relentless now, bent on savoring the last parts of this meal, and Ignis, beautiful, vocal Ignis, was so close now.

 

"I'm-- ah! Gladiolus I-- fuck, swallow it all."

 

Gladio shoved his head down, felt Ignis' thighs press and lock his head there, and hump insistently down his pressed lips as he choked back warbling moans. Unseen to Gladio, as Ignis cried out his climax, the man's eyes flashed yellow, the same yellow of his precious tonberry, before flickering back to normal. Cum drizzled upon Gladio's tongue, and he swallowed over and over to take it all.

 

The tonberry's eye button on the apron twinkled once more.

 

As Ignis' slumped, catching his breath from the powerful orgasm and Gladio's ruthless cleaning of his crotch, the other man had other ideas. He still hungered, longed to give Ignis more, as if inspired by his provoking bravado. And this was something he'd craved to do since falling for Ignis.

 

Pulling off Ignis' softened cock, Gladio worked his jaws as he pushed Ignis' legs up and forward, pulling a startled gasp from the other.

 

"G-Gladio?"

 

The other didn't speak, didn't give a hint of his intentions, and took full advantage of being cloaked by the apron. Pushing Ignis' legs along his body offered him more of his nethers, and he dove straight in, sucking lazily at his drawn up sac, then lower, lavishing his perineum with nuzzles and licks. Ignis was breathless with it, barely able to voice and broken down to gasps and whimpers from overstimulation. Gladio even heard a subtle whine cease, but it was drowned out by another startled moan and his tongue washing against his hole. It puckered tight in surprise, and Gladio smirked in imaging another wash of red paint over Ignis' glassless face.

 

"S… so bloody greedy, to want me there. I… I can't very well stop you… I would not dare… keep a man from second helpings," Ignis panted, and with no further restraint left, Gladio dove in, beard rubbing sensitive flesh and tongue invading and rolling inside him.

 

And if Ignis came again, drizzling cum along his thighs and abs, then all the more for Gladio, who lapped it up, and sealed the area with a kiss.

 

The stove's timer went off, startling Ignis from whatever spell was locking him in this sex stupor. He attempted to squirm out of Gladio's grip, but the other's strength halted any headway.

 

"I'll get it," Gladio rumbled, voice even lower, his lips noticeably plush, as he pulled himself from under the apron and gave Ignis' knee a kiss. He scooped the man away from the kitchen to place him on the couch. He reached to untie the apron to hang up, only for Ignis to grab his hands like a man suddenly frightened.

 

Gladio raised a brow, and Ignis' lips turned down, as if confused by his own actions. He swallowed and ducked his head, forcing himself to smile sheepishly, as if he was stopping Gladio in some strange leftover sense of modesty. "Allow me to… gather my wits."

 

"That was a bit much yeah… I'll let you breathe," Gladio smirked, giving him a wink at his, rather clever, culinary joke. He left Ignis in the living room as he handled the kitchen.

 

There, Ignis slowly, carefully, pulled at the knots of his apron, wondering why his limbs felt so numb as he did so. When the knot at his waist came loose, untying the one behind his neck was much easier. Ignis simply chalked it up to his exhaustion from the spontaneous sex and his… rather spontaneous sexual aggression. Gods, had that been him? He had been wanting Gladio for years, but he never saw himself coming on so strongly in the end. But, Gladio had all but buckled under it all and returned his feelings ten fold.

 

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," Ignis whispered, gently draping the apron on the back cushion of the couch before snagging his soiled underwear from his ankle and moving to his bedroom to pull on some bed clothes.

 

Ignis returned to Gladio having set up the living room for their movie night, plates already loaded up with food and wine poured to the side. Gladio patted a place beside him, but, Ignis ignored it and settled across Gladio's lap, because for all that it was worth, what transpired was not to be forgotten or neglected. He wanted that to be clear. From the tender smile on Gladio's face, and the hints of mouthwash he could smell on his breath, Ignis was glad the other felt the same.

 

"After dinner, I will be sure to handle dessert," Ignis murmured, and if he so happened to settle his rump over the bulge of arousal he had not yet reciprocated, Gladio tactfully ignored it for now, save for a pleased rumble in his chest.

 

"Looking forward to it, Chef."

 

The tonberry's eye button dulled, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you @noctoleptic for being the best beta to ever beta!


	3. The Clock of the Anxious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis figures lightning can strike twice, and goes back to get Prompto a gift. The shop keeper is feeling chatty.

Ignis hadn't said anything bad about his gift once he finally wore it, but he never seemed to wear it when he was over. Ignis assured him that he had been using it 'to great excess', and Ignis wasn't one to lie to him. So, Noctis pocketed his mission to get Ignis a unique gift he liked a success. Now, it was October, and Prompto's birthday was soon approaching. Noctis figured, why not go back to Niflheim? There was sure to be something good in there like before.

 

So, there he was, back in Niflheim, and that weird shop keeper was nowhere to be found again. He blew out air, rolling his eyes. Whatever-- he'd just look around like last time.

 

Prompto was a bit easier to buy for, since his friend got excited by the smallest things. But, Noctis didn't feel like playing on Prompto's weakness of being spoiled. He looked around at the antique cameras, figuring that something of that aesthetic would look nice in Prompto's little apartment. Or maybe an old poster?

 

"Geez this place is big…" Noctis frowned, having forgotten how much larger it was inside than it looked from the outside.

 

"Well well, my favorite patron. You've returned."

 

Noctis suppressed a flinch after hearing that strange shop keeper only a few steps away from him, leaning against an antique table.

 

"And what can I do for you, Noctis?"

 

A bit miffed at being startled, again, he sassed him back. "Must not get a lot of customers if you remember me. It's been a few weeks."

 

"Has it? Time is such a funny thing. Yes I remember all of my customers. You bought my apron. Does your friend enjoy it?" The man hummed, clasping his hands behind his back.

 

"Y-yeah, he likes it."

 

"Splendid. So, back to your purpose of another visit. Most don't return since my wares can be quite expensive. Find yourself with more cash to burn, young man?"

 

"Ah, I mean-- if you got anything under 10,000 gil?" Noctis frowned, because he really had forgotten the fact that last time, he was able to afford the apron only because the shop keeper had dropped the price way down. Getting a gift for Prompto in here might not have been the wisest decision for his poor wallet.

 

"I'm sure we can bargain if you spot something beyond your means."

 

"Ah, cool. Ahnm. Okay." Noctis rubbed the back of his neck. "My friend, he's a photographer, so I was thinking something like that?"

 

"I can tell you now that anything functional in my shop will be more than you can afford," the shop keeper said, leaning his head into his palm mournfully. "Can you think of anything else your friend enjoys?"

 

"He's a nerd, so anything electronic, but… yeah, nothing in here like that."

 

"Sounds like your companion enjoys mechanics. Many of that cloth enjoy the aesthetics of antique gears, even when it doesn't work. Does this sound accurate, dear boy?"

 

"Yeah, actually." Noctis tilted his head, feeling like the man had an idea. He was also being much more helpful to his shopping needs than before, so he wasn't going to discourage this by adding his two cents.

 

"Mmnnn," the shop keeper tapped his lips in contemplation before his eyes lit up and he turned on a heel. "Come this way, Noctis."

 

The two of them traveled further back to a nook where a plethora of clocks of all shapes, sizes, and prices, were displayed on shelves and the wall. "Let us see here… hnnnmmm… ah! Here it is."

 

Handling it with all the care as one would hold a baby chick, the shop keeper presented a beautiful ornate clock with all its parts underneath curved glass. It didn't tick, broken, but beautiful. The touch that sold Noctis was the back panel of the clock face had a gorgeous drawing of a chocobo in full sprint. Prompto would fucking love it… and hopefully not break it.

 

"If I remember correctly, this clock used to belong to a woman who had a lover who worked late hours. So she would set her clock so she wouldn't have to stay up for his return. Cute story, if it is true."

 

"Yeah, so how much?" Noctis huffed, because fuck the story, he wanted to know if this thing was affordable like the shop keeper said.

 

"9,000 gil, if you wrap it yourself."

 

"That again? I'm definitely gonna break it if I do."

 

"Oh, I _suppose_ I could do it for you," the shop keep sighed, as if it was the biggest chore, "but only because you look like you'll make a disgusting pout if you aren't able to purchase this clock."

 

"… w-was not."

 

"Of course," the shop keeper laughed, and Noctis had a feeling the guy was messing with him.

 

At the register, Noctis produced cash this time, to which the shop keep laughed once more. "Did we learn from previous visits?"

 

"Just figured it'd be easier for you, just in case."

 

"You thought correctly, young man." The cash register pinged happily and he tucked away the currency accordingly, passing Noctis his change. His fingertips were a bit cold, but soft. Noctis swallowed and ignored that his brain picked up that detail, opting to look about the shop while the owner started to prepare packing his gift.

 

"So, how long you've been here?"

 

"A long long time, Noctis. I think my store's been here for as long as this corner's been here."

 

"And you're always here? Like, do you live here?"

 

"I do actually. Right upstairs. Cheaper that way, and I feel better about my belongings."

 

"A lot of theft?"

 

The shine in the man's, admittedly, handsome eyes spoke of a deeper meaning beyond what he answered. "You could say that."

 

Noctis sucked his teeth. "Vague-much."

 

"Nosy-much?"

 

Noctis grumbled and did not pout as he folded his arms. "Just interested."

 

"That much is clear," the man laughed again, and started to pre-stuff a box with newspaper that seemed as old at his place was. "Calm yourself. I am simply being playful. It is not every day someone your age takes an interest in antiques… then again, I suppose I should expect it. Millennials and what not, and their thirst for the retro."

 

"What…?"

 

The shop keeper shook his head and continued prepping the box. Noctis spoke up again into the silence.

 

"I'm not that young."

 

"Hnm?"

 

"I'm 25. I'm not a Millennial."

 

"You still look so young. A good sign for later years."

 

Noctis shrugged, but he felt his ears warm at the compliment. He then felt compelled to pass that compliment right back, as if he owed him one and didn't like it. "You don't look all that old. I bet you're, like, 70 years old."

 

Noctis did _not_ pout and turned his back to the man as he chuckled at him. He hated how his stomach warmed at the sound of it. It was a nice sounding laugh, though.

 

"To indulge your cat-like curiosity, dear boy, I have had many in years past try to steal from me. Each time, it was due to wanting more of what I previously sold them. I suppose my wares inspire greed."

 

"Why-- a lot of it is just some junk that people like cause it's old."

 

The man laughed once more, and Noctis warmed right along with it. "Oh, you are a lively one, aren't you? Yes, Noctis, much weight is placed on an item's age when determining how valuable it is. But, that is the truth as it stands, and so I must keep a close eye on everything. Thankfully, I haven't had any attempted theft in a long time."

 

"When… was the last time someone tried to steal from you?"

 

"Let me think… who was that man…?" The shop keeper carefully placed the clock among the nest of shredded newspaper and cotton balls.  "Ah, now I recall. It took me a moment because he had sent another man to steal in his place. An elderly man, Aldercapt, which I sold a very gorgeous piece of antique jewelry to. A ring. After that, he wanted more, and he sent this other man to my establishment a month later to take from me after I refused to sell him the entirety of my jewelry collection."

 

"Why did you refuse 'em? Ain't that the point of having a business? Selling stuff?"

 

"I suppose I felt a bit uncomfortable knowing one man would be in possession of so many… influential pieces. I like to spread out my wares."

 

Noctis scoffed. "You think pretty highly of your old stuff."

 

"I assure you, my _stuff_ is nothing to sneeze at, young man." And the way the shop keeper purred the sentence caused Noctis to chalk up another strike towards the possibility that this guy was probably kinda hitting on him.

 

The man's line-touched hands were wrapping a blue bow on top, and Noctis jerked an eyebrow up as to how the man knew that it was a birthday gift. Or maybe he didn't, and he was just being extra with the gift wrapping. _Don't think too hard about it, this guy's just weird._

 

The man sighed and gave the box a little tap. "There you are, Noctis. One gift for your precious technophile friend. I do hope he enjoys it."

 

"Well, my other friend liked the apron, so we'll see."

 

"Have a pleasant night."

 

Ignoring the mistake in time period from the shop keeper, Noctis gently gathered the box in his arms like one would hold a child, aware of the care the man put into its packing, and how fucking fragile the clock was in general. He hoped he could avoid all the pot holes on the way home. That had been his train of thought, until he left the shop and flinched at the streetlight hitting his face.

 

"The… hell…?"

 

It was late, cars passing by with their headlights on and the local bars glowing with activity. Just how long had he stayed in there? Noctis shook his head and moved to his car. He must have just lost track of time.

 

"Time's a… funny thing."

 


End file.
